


Little Shop of Brallon

by mrmisty_eyed



Category: Blink-182, Little Shop of Horrors - Menken/Ashman, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:36:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14498121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrmisty_eyed/pseuds/mrmisty_eyed
Summary: Brallon remake of Little Shop of Horrors. Slightly edited and much more gory, and smuttier than the original ☆





	1. Skid Row (Downtown)

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on wattpad @AegarattNirand!

Skid Row is a dreary place, dirty and full of sadness. The only place that had any colour was Hoppus & Co's Flower Shop. Mark Hoppus ran the place, but it seemed to be going under. No one ever stopped by the store. Well, no one ever had any money to ever use on a luxury such as flowers.

Dallon Weekes popped into the shop, covered in dirt. He pushed his glasses up and looked around. "No customers yet?" He said.

"Not a single one. The cash box is dry as the Sahara." Mark stared forlornly at the register. It was pitiful, how bad the shop seemed to be going. Just then, Brendon rushed through the door, sporting a big blue shiner. "Where you been, Urie?"

"I- I- oh, uh, I had a date. I'm so sorry I'm late." Brendon blushed. His head hung down, in an attempt to hide his black eye. "Had any customers?" He skittered over to the register, staring into it.

"No. I'm thinking of closing the shop. For good." Mark sighed. "We just don't have the funds to keep the shop open. It's been a long time since there's been a single customer."

Dallon's mouth gaped like a fish. How could they close the shop? The shop was his reason to get up in the morning, the plants were his passion. A light bulb went off in Dallon's head. He had a solution!

While Dallon was in his head thinking, Mark began to admonish Brendon for his choice in men.

"Urie, I keep telling you, that Ryan is no good! Why do you stick around? Why do you let him hit you like that?"

"Mr Hoppus, sir, he's a good man-- I promise. I deserved this," Brendon gestured to his eye.

"No, kid. You don't. You deserve a good man." Mark wrapped his arms around the short man and gave him a short but kind hug.


	2. Da-Doo

Dallon smiled down at the little plant in front of him. This little thing could possibly be his salvation. He grabbed the phone and dialled Brendon's number.

"Brendon speaking. Who, may I ask, is this?"

"Hey, it's me Dallon. Come over. I wanna show you the plant that's gonna make Hoppus' Flowers a hit!"

Brendon smiled and hung up. He rushed to get his shoes and out the door to the flower shop. It took him less than ten minutes to get there. As he walked in, he saw Dallon petting a small Venus flytrap sort of plant.

The bell on the door alerted Dallon of his visitor. "Brendon! Come meet Brendon 2! This here is the plant that will make our shop a hit." Dallon lifted the plant to face level. Brendon admired how sweet it looked. Sort of puny, but strange and interesting nonetheless.

Mr Hoppus came out from the shop. "What's that you got there?" He came closer and inspected the plant.

"You don't have to close the shop!" Dallon exclaimed.

"And why is that? Is that plant supposed to bring in more customers? How are people gonna see it?"

"Well... we could put it in the window. People love strange and interesting plants. This'll surely bring in at least one customer." Dallon set his plant in the large and empty shop window.

Not even thirty seconds later, a man popped into the store. "What is that strange and interesting plant in your window?"

"It's a Brendon Two!" Brendon interjected.

"Well, where'd it come from?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen To Da-Doo for the story of how Dallon got his Bren2!


	3. Grow For Me?

Brendon 2 garnered a lot of attention for Hoppus Flowers. People were stopping in daily! Dallon, Brendon and Mark were working harder than ever to fill the flood of orders. Dallon had extra work, however, in caring for Bren2. He's been giving his plant everything it needed, but Bren2 refused to grow. Dallon knew that if Bren2 didn't grow any bigger, people wouldn't be as interested.

And, Dallon was right. After about 2 weeks, the small crowds got smaller. All because Bren2 refused to grow.

\-- --

"Hey, Dallon, is there somethin' wrong with your plant? Doesn't seem to be growin'." Mark eyed the plant. It looked almost pitiful amongst the blooming flowers in the big window. Its vines sat motionless and dry. Mark leaned against the store counter, looking from the plant to Dallon. Dallon shrugged helplessly.

"Hell if I know. It's not responding to anything I've given it," he responded sadly. Dallon went to his plant, picking it up from the windowsill. "I'll close up shop. I'm gonna see if I can get this bugger to grow." Mark nodded and went to the back to grab his things. When Dallon heard the click of the back door shutting, he locked the front door and took Bren2 down to his lab/ bedroom in the basement of the shop.

"Okay, twoey. What the hell is wrong with you? Why aren't you growing?" Dallon said, setting Bren2 on the table. He gave a hard poke to Bren's face area. "I've given you sunshine, I've given you dirt. And what do you give me? You've given me nothing, but heartache and hurt. C'mon twoey, I'm begging ya, grow for me."

Bren2 sat motionless still. Not even a rustle of leaves. "I've given you southern exposure, to get ya to thrive. I've tried you at different levels of moisture-- from desert to mud." Dallon sighed, turning around to organize the other plants. "I've given you grow lights and mineral supplements! And, that stuff is expensive. What more do you want from me? Blood?" Right at that moment, Dallon cut his finger on a particularly sharp rose thorn. Blood beaded at the tip of his pointer finger.

Dallon whipped around when he heard a smooch noise. Bren2 was moving, making kissy noises at Dallon's blood. "Oh, come on. Blood? Really? That's disgusting. Jesus Christ, Twoey." he grimaced in disgust. Bren2 tilted its head, opening its mouth, as if to say 'feed me, Weekes'. "Fuck. Fine. You can have the blood." 

He stuck his index finger into the plant's mouth, feeling nausea well up in him. The feeling of the plant's mouth on his finger was absolutely disgusting. When Dallon decided Twoey had enough blood, he pulled his finger away. "Are you satisfied?" Dallon shuddered and went to put on a band-aid. After he had his finger covered, he took Bren2 back to the window in the shop. "G'night Twoey. Grow for me."


	4. Somewhere That's Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR RAPE AND ABUSE

_Meanwhile at Brendon's flat across the street..._

"Please, Ryan--" Brendon cowered as Ryan raised an open palm. There was a loud crack as Ryan's palm connected with Brendon's cheek. Brendon staggered back in shock. " _That hurt!_ Ryan, what did I do this time?  _Please_. Tell me." he choked out, fighting tears. Ryan didn't respond. Instead, he pushed Brendon against the bedroom wall. He brought a hand up, making Brendon turn his cheek in preparation for a slap. The raised hand went to Brendon's throat, skinny fingers wrapping around his throat.

Brendon's heartbeat sped up. "Ryro, please. Pleasepleaseplease. Don't do this. I've been so good for you. I'll do anything. Please." he pleaded. Ryan's dark eyes gazed coolly into Brendon's.

"Anything?" Ryan said.

"A-anything. Please, just don't hurt me."

Ryan flashed Brendon an evil smile and lifted the small man bridal style to move him to the bed. Brendon whimpered in terror. Ryan was never gentle with him; he was always so rough, constantly leaving bruises. Ryan went about removing his and Brendon's clothes. He practically tore Brendon's shirt in half taking it off, then threw it to the side. He also made quick work of Brendon's lower garments.

Ryan pushed Brendon's legs apart, kneeling between them. He pushed two fingers inside Brendon with no warning, making Brendon cry out in pain, "No-- please don't go in dry it hurts so much please--" The pain was absolutely unbearable. Brendon knew he'd probably tear by the end of the night. After the so-called "prep", Ryan entered him. Quick, dry, and extremely rough. A scream ripped its way from Brendon's throat.

Ryan chuckled deep in his chest, thrusting slow and shallow. His right hand took up residence around Brendon's pale neck. He began to add pressure as his thrusts became quicker, loving the way Brendon gasped and attempted to wriggle away. Brendon's throat was already beginning to bruise, flowering lavender and pink across the skin. Suddenly, Ryan's quick thrusts stilled as his orgasm hit him hard. The pressure on Brendon's neck came to an all-time high. Once Ryan's high passed, he pulled out and slumped down onto the bed next to Brendon.

Brendon rolled onto his side, facing away from Ryan, staring out of the window. Hot, heavy tears rolled down his face as the pain from what just happened set in. A loud crash from across the street drew Brendon's eyes to Hoppus' Skid Row Florist. He could see Dallon fiddling around with his plants through the basement window, tending to them carefully. The care that Dallon afforded the plants makes Brendon smile through his tears, wishing he was one of Dallon's plants.  _That's silly_ , Brendon thought with a small shake of his head.

He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his racing thoughts so he could sleep for work.


	5. Dentist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND IMPLIED ANIMAL ABUSE

Ryan Ross was a fucked up kid, to say the very least about it. He wasn't ever allowed to have pets, and he didn't have many friends. Ryan spent most of his childhood alone, with just his mom. When his mother worked, Ryan would go out and find a stray cat to kick around. Or, he'd take his bb gun and shoot at random animals that wandered into his yard. His mom never noticed his violence, until she actually caught him in the act.

He was about 17, sitting in the backyard. A stray kitten had taken up a home in the Ross' bushes, and Ryan happened to be in a particularly sadistic mood. So, he snuck up on the sleeping kitty, holding a large rock. The kitten's ears twitched, hearing the rustle of the bush. Another rustle made the kitten's head go up. Ryan chuckled low and dark. He swooped down, and in one swift movement, yanked the kitten up by its neck scruff. Ryan growled in the little kitty's face, loving the way the kitten was squirming with terror.

"George Ryan Ross The Third! Put that kitten down!" his mother screeched suddenly from the back door. Ryan jumped hard, dropping the kitten to the hard ground. "Come here,  _now_!" Ryan slumped in defeat, walking towards his mom. "So it's been you, all these dead and injured animals around?" Without waiting for a response, she continued. "Now, these innocent animals don't deserve what you're doing. I want you to stop hurting innocent animals. When you're all grown up, you can make your sadistic tendencies pay. Be a dentist. Dentists can be as sadistic and cruel as they please." Mrs Ross told her son. She smacked his head and led him inside.

**_fast forward ten years_ **

Ryan had gone to university, studying medicine and dental work, and opened his own dental practice on Skid Row. He had plenty business because the people of Skid Row had absolutely disgusting teeth. Ryan would use the most painful methods on his patients. There was one man who would come in though, and he'd always enjoy the pain that Ryan put him through. His name was Jon Walker.

Jon would come in weekly, and get his fix of Ryan's home-brewed pain. It pissed Ryan off. The whole point of being a dentist was to torture the patients, to see them writhe in agony. But this fucker just wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Ryan was gonna do the most today, maybe that'll work this time. Maybe—

"Next!" Ryan called into the lobby.

"Oh, that's me!" Jon giggled, almost girlishly as he skipped into the room. Ryan cringed.

"Cmon. You know the drill." Ryan pushed Jon into the chair and yanked his mouth open roughly. He saw nothing wrong with his mouth, but figured, hey why not pull a few teeth? But first, Ryan needed some gas. A few minutes later, Ryan was equipped with his nitrous oxide mask, and ready to wreak havoc. He grabbed a drill, turned it up high, and began to dig into Jon's back teeth. The screams began, shrill and loud. Jon tried to curl in on himself to get away from the drill, but Ryan held the skinny man down with his free hand. Blood began to flow from Jon's gums, spilling from his mouth onto the bib he had on.

"Auughhhh flease roh rore—" Jon whimpered when Ryan moved the drill away. His mouth was on fucking fire. Blood was everywhere. This is where Jon drew the line at his masochism. "Flease M-mister Ross—" Jon pleaded.

"Shut the fuck up or get out," Ryan growled. He shoved some gauze into Jon's mouth, pressing it over the bleeding area.

Realising he could leave and not be tortured anymore, Jon fled. He scrambled from the chair, darting from the building.

"Anyone else?" Ryan said to the near-empty lobby. The little girl that sat in the seat closest to the door flinched and shook her head. He looked down at her and felt a flash of pity. "Come back tomorrow, kid." He shooed her out so he could get high in peace.

A couple hours later, he saw it was time to grab Brendon from work for their date. He left the building, hopped on his bike and sped through town to the ghetto of Skid Row. Ryan hopped off his bike and entered the florist shop. "Brendon!" He called.


	6. Mushnik and Son

*** ** _recap: Ryan came to pick up Brendon from work for their "date"._**

"Uh, um, I'm sorry sir, we're closed!" Dallon spoke up weakly from behind the counter. Ryan whipped around to see the tall, meek man. He scoffed.

"Hey, hey, I know you. I seen you on tv. You got that big ass plant." Ryan's eyes darted to the massive plant, hungrily taking in the sight of that moneymaker. "Oh-ho, it's even better in person! Bigger!"

"—I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave. We're closed for the night." Dallon said.

"Oh, Dallon, that's my boyfriend, Ryan Ross." Brendon chimed in from the doorway to the basement. Ryan fixed a glare upon him. "D. D. S." Brendon finished. He put his head down, trying to get the attention off himself.

"Anyway, as I was saying— this plant is a real blessing. You could make millions off this thing. Why don't you leave this hellhole, take it somewhere where people will really notice it, instead of hiding here in the ghetto?" Ryan punched Dallon's shoulder in a playful manner.

"Ah, no. I'm fine here."

"Yeah, Dallon would never leave this shop; it's his home," Brendon said, a small smile on his face.

"Was anyone fucking talking to you, whore?" Ryan walked up to Brendon briskly and wrapped a hand around his throat. He leaned in close, "speak when spoken to, bitch." Brendon simply whimpered. "Now what do you say?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm so sorry, doctor." Brendon flinched when Ryan let him go.

"Seriously, man, take your ass somewhere where you can make something of yourself and that plant. 'Hoppus' Skid Row Florist'? What a fucking joke."

Little did they know, Hoppus himself was outside listening in.  _A joke, I'm a joke?_  Mark thought to himself.

"Make a future for yourself kid, get outta here. Hear me, kid?"

"I— yeah. I hear ya."

 _He hears him._  Mark was shocked.

"Ry, shouldn't we be going?" Brendon piped up again.

"What the fuck did I say about speaking when spoken to?" Ryan grabbed Brendon's face roughly. 

"Oh," Brendon groaned in terror. "I'm sorry Doctor. I'm sorry."

Ryan smirked. "Ya gotta train em, eh stud?" He dropped his hand from Brendon's face and punched Dallon's arm. "Well, I gotta go. I'm double parked. But think about what I told you. Alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

Mark was aghast. "He'll think about it! He'll think about it!"

"Okay, Bren. Got the cuffs?"

"Yes, Doctor." Brendon gingerly patted his bag.

The two left the shop, and Hoppus sat outside the door, reeling from the whole conversation. "If Dallon leaves, and takes that plant, I'm done for! My shop will be gone! I need to fix this!" He made his way into the shop, leaning against the counter while Dallon tended Bren2.

"Mr Hoppus, did you see that prick? Did you see the way he was slapping Brendon around?" Dallon was fuming. "See, it's no wonder Brendon always looks so sick. He's a disgrace to the dental profession—"

"Hey, Dallon!" Mark called suddenly. Dallon looked at him expectantly. "Dallon..." Mark smiled warmly. "Would you be my son?"

"I, you, what? What?" Dallon was sceptical.

 _I'm broke, he's my ticket to getting rich! If he's my son, he can't leave!_ Mark thought frantically.

"Just say yes!"

"But what for?"

"Cmon Dallon, if you agree, things get better."

"Wait, you always said I was trash. Why this? Why now?"

Mark grabbed Dallon in a bear hug, hugging him so hard it knocked the wind out of him. "Sir, I can't breathe!"

Mark chuckled and let him go. "Excuse the expression of my paternal mishegoss! Cmon Dallon, just agree! I'll hold my breath until you do." He sucked in a large breath.

Dallon sunk far into his head, mulling it over. The pros outweighed the cons. Dallon had always wanted a father. And he'd inherit the shop, eventually as well. When Dallon finally made his choice, it had been five solid minutes. "Fine, yes, I'll be your son!"

Mark let out the breath he was holding, gasping for air. "Shit, took you long enough, kid!"

"Can I call you Dad?"

"Yes! And we can change the shop name to Hoppus and Son's Skid Row Florist!" Mark grinned widely. He embraced Dallon in a more gentle hug than the one before.  _This kid just saved my ass, and he doesn't even know it_ , Mark thought.


	7. Feed Me! (Git It)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MENTIONS OF MURDER, GRAPHIC ABUSE

Twoey was a very (obnoxiously) demanding plant. It'd gotten bigger, taking up a quarter of the shop, vines everywhere. The only thing it ever seemed to want was blood, and Dallon was beginning to be unable to feed the plant. Every one of Dallon's fingers had a bandage on it. Brendon had tried to ask if he was okay, and Dallon brushed him off with an "I'm just clumsy, it's nothing".  It was hard to not faint over, because of how much blood he'd fed Twoey.

It was the end of yet another busy day, and Dallon was left to clean up shop. He quickly swept up all of the fallen leaves and bits of soil, wanting to go and get himself something to eat. He finished up his sweeping and bid farewell to Bren2.

"I'll be back, I'm going to get something from the deli across the street."

Bren2 let out a low growl, almost like its stomach was rumbling. The plant began to make its hungry kissy noises again.

"Hey, hey no I don't have any more blood for you!"

Twoey's head lifted. "Feed me!" it shouted.

Dallon staggered back, thoroughly terrified. "Ah— I beg your pardon?"

"FEED ME."

"Holy fuck— you talked, you opened your, your thing, your trap and you said—"

"FEED ME."

"I- I was on my way over to the deli, I'll bring you back something—"

"Must be blood," Twoey growled lowly.

Dallon gagged, leaning against the door. "Cmon man, that's gross."

"Must be fresh."

Dallon covered his ears. "I don't wanna hear that!"

Twoey began to chant, "feeed me, feeed me..."

Dallon was nauseated and terrified. He interrupted Twoey's chanting, "What the fuck do you want from me? Want me to slit my wrists?"

Twoey grinned evilly with his ugly plant-lips. "Mhmm. Cmon and feed me Dally, I'm hungry and I gotta grow fuh you." He tilted his head in anticipation.

"Uh-uh. No way. And even if I wanted to feed you, where would I get enough blood? Kill people?" 

"Sure! And I'll even make it worth your while!" Somehow, in some weird way, it looked as if Twoey was smirking smugly at Dallon.

"Wha—"

"Oh, you think this is all a coincidence? All your success, your adoption papers? All  _me_ , baby!"

Dallon's head was spinning. Twoey crept a vine onto Dallon's shoulder, holding him to his place. "B- b- but you're a plant! An inanimate object!"

Oh, wrong thing to say. Twoey rocked his pot, shaking the entire floor. He rose up almost to the ceiling and roared, " _INANIMATE_? Does this look  _INANIMATE_  to you? If I can talk, and I can move, who's to say I can't do anything I gotdamn well please?"

"Like what?"

A deep chuckle escaped Bren2's jowls. "Like... you ever wanted to be a stud? A real richy-rich? I'm the plant who can make it all real," he said with a sinister smile. "Cmon, I know you got dreams. I can make em all come true. Think on it a minute."

A million thoughts ran through Dallon's head. He was terrified, first and foremost. Secondly, he really did want a better life for himself and Brendon, and this plant was their ticket out. But, would he really kill to appease that  _stupid_  plant?

"Ooo, I know exactly what'll motivate you—" And it was as if Twoey heard every thought he had, "what about your boy? Your sweet loverboy?" Dallon's stomach sank. "I know you'd do anything for him."

"Fine. But I don't know anyone who deserves to be chopped up and fed to a plant."

"You don't? Hm, I think you do."

At that moment, Brendon and Ryan burst through the door of the shop knocking Dallon to the ground. He stayed down behind the door.

"You stupid bitch! How the fuck you do forget your fucking sweater?" Ryan growled at Brendon. Brendon scrambled over to the hook in the corner where his lavender hoodie hung. "Fucking scatterbrained bitch."

Brendon hurried back over to Ryan, chest aching with fear. "I'm sorry Ryan, I won't do it again I'm sorry please don't hurt me," he pleaded.

"Move it, you little slut! God if your head weren't screwed on—" Ryan's open palm made hard, loud contact with Brendon's pale cheek.

From behind the door, Dallon's heart broke. It was one thing seeing the aftermath, but it was another to see it really happening. Rage boiled in his blood. He watched as Ryan dragged Brendon back outside, and almost chased them but was stopped by a sudden realisation.

"Now you see?"

"Yeah, I see. You'll be fed by midnight tomorrow, no later. I promise."


End file.
